


Once more...

by OllyJay



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, MFMM Flashfic Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 23:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14389539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllyJay/pseuds/OllyJay
Summary: Contrary to popular belief, it isn't always easy being the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher...My contribution to the flashfic challenge all the way from beautiful Adelaide!





	Once more...

**Author's Note:**

> Just read Geenee27's fic and was reminded of my manners... Dot thank you to our travelling buddy @solitarycyclist for being my beta - LOL!

Phryne toyed with the glass of champagne in her hand; the last thing she felt like doing was celebrating. She took a sip of the expensive beverage, fighting hard not to screw up her face as the dryness hit her palate - after all there was nothing wrong with it. She lifted her eyes to find Walter gazing at her from across the table, his concern obvious. She shook her head and tried to smile. He shook his head back at her slowly and the way he pursed his lips told her he wasn’t fooled. She shrugged her elegant bare shoulders, as if to say, what can I do? He rolled his eyes. She decided not to look at him again, moving subtly in her chair to face the woman on her right.

“Miss Fisher, I was wondering, have you heard anything from Melbourne?”

Plastering a fake smile on her face, Phryne replied, “Unfortunately the City of Melbourne and I are not in the habit of corresponding.” 

The woman simpered. “You are so terribly droll, Miss Fisher.”

Phryne raised her eyebrows, really?

“I meant of course, have your friends in Melbourne been able to tell you how Inspector Robinson is recovering?”

Now the woman had Phryne’s full attention. “Why? What have you heard?”

Having just placed a forkful of the delicious scallop mornay in her mouth, the woman was in no position to talk and so Phryne was forced to wait impatiently for her to chew and swallow. She filled the time by draining her glass and refilling it. It is also possible that she may have begun to tap her foot against her ankle… in a most unladylike fashion. Having finally swallowed, the woman then took a sip from her own glass, seemingly immune to the death threats Phryne was thinking at her.

“Oh, nothing more than you, I’m sure.”

Phryne bit back her desire to snap _I’ll be the judge of that_ \- just. Instead she flipped her hair, as though she had not a care in the world, and said, “I know, but it always amuses me to hear what people are saying.”

The woman nodded. “Yes, gossip is always amusing.”

Phryne waited. The woman carried on eating. Phryne stared at her in disbelief - was she an imbecile? She looked across at Walter, who was clearly curious as to what was going on. Phryne took a slow calming breath. “Sorry, you were about to tell me what you had heard about Inspector Robinson’s recovery…” 

The woman looked at her as though she had never seen her before.

Obviously an imbecile then, Phryne diagnosed. “From the fire…” she prompted helpfully.

“Oh,” she said, “yes, sorry. Have you tried the mornay? It really is delicious.”

“No,” said Phryne, looking pointedly at the plate in front of her which remained untainted by food even though they had been at the table for over thirty minutes. “I’m not eating this evening,” she picked up her glass and refilled it, “just drinking.”

“Oh,” said the woman, “do you think that’s wise?”

Phryne decided not to point out that she was unlikely to take advice from a person so oblivious to the fact of her own impending death by throttling. It would be amusing, she reflected, if Jack’s first case back on the job was the investigation into this woman’s death. Would he be sympathetic, she wondered, to her defence of _But Jack, she wouldn’t tell me what she had heard about you._ Probably not, she thought. He might be flattered but probably not sympathetic. He could be funny like that. No, she would just have to persevere. She managed a roguish grin as she picked up her glass and saluted the woman. “I am not generally known for the wisdom of my choices.” She knew she had hit the right note when the woman’s jaw dropped slightly.

“Oh,” she said.

If she says that one more time, thought Phryne, I’m really going to have no choice, I’ll have to plead temporary insanity and Jack is just going to have to get used to visiting me in prison.

Thankfully, the woman was able to ensure her continued existence by talking. “I heard from cousin Millie, who has a friend at the hospital, who sometimes works with the doctor, who…”

It was clear to Phryne that she had granted the reprieve too early. Her fingers tightened around the silver fork beside her plate.

“...who was treating Inspector Robinson and he was released from hospital yesterday morning.” She finished just in time. Phryne let her fingers relax and release the intended murder weapon.

“How wonderful,” Phryne said, as though she really couldn’t care less.

The woman stared at her - clearly that was not the reaction she had expected. She looked rather disappointed. “You knew then?”

Phryne nodded. “Of course.” She was rather proud of how convincing she sounded. She reached across to the champagne bottle. “Oh dear, it’s empty.” She pushed back her chair. “Excuse me, I’ll just go find some more,” she said as she stood and headed to the door.

She managed to make it out before it hit her. He had been released from hospital and not come to her? Not even seen fit to send a message? What did it mean? She could feel the tears welling up.

“Phryne?” Warm arms slipped around her waist. “Darling are you alright?” the low gentle voice spoke softly into her ear.

She let herself lean back into the comfort of Walter’s embrace. “Jack was released from hospital yesterday.”

“Wonderful, when did you speak to him?” 

She froze. “I haven’t.” She spun around and his arms dropped. “Why? Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“I honestly don’t know,” he replied. 

“It’s because I didn’t wait for him, isn’t it? Because I came here when I should have stayed in Melbourne with him…” She struck the wall with the side of her fist. “I knew I shouldn’t have listened to him. He said for me to come but it was a bloody test, all along.” She looked at Walter aghast. “What will happen now, now that I’ve failed?”

“Darling, you haven’t failed. I don’t think he ever expected you to sit dutifully beside his bedside until he recovered. And if he did, he doesn’t know you at all.” Walter grabbed her hands in his. “And he really wouldn’t deserve you,” he said as he raised them to his lips and kissed the one that had struck the wall. “The indomitable Phryne Fisher is not the sort of woman to sit pining at the bedside of a man.”

“Not even the man she loves?”

He squeezed her hands. “Not even then.” He lifted his hand to her face, stroking a finger along her cheek to capture a tear. “Why don’t you go and tidy yourself up? I’ll wait here, then we’ll go find some more of that champagne you’re not enjoying and head back in.”

She leaned in to kiss his lips. “Once more unto the breach, dear friend?”

“Always, my love,” he promised.

But when Phryne emerged from the powder room the hallway was empty. That was the truth of it, she thought, at the end of the day you really couldn’t rely on anyone but yourself. She had hoped for more from Walter though, he had known her for so long and, when she had accepted the case in Adelaide, had immediately opened his house to her. And they had spent many an amusing evening discussing old friends and lovers. Surrounded by his calm, quiet presence she had finally found herself able to admit the depth of her feelings for the man who had traveled half a world to be with her and with whom she was now trying to build something new.

But their last case had ended with Jack in hospital recovering from smoke inhalation and she had been at a loose end and so, mainly at his urging, she had taken this current case. And missed him desperately. Daily telegrams from both Dot and Mac did little to ease her worry and with each day she knew her concentration was slipping. And now to find that he had gone home but no one had told her? Not even her closest friend? It felt as though there was bad news that no one wanted to share with her.

“Miss Fisher?” a polite voice addressed her from one of the many doorways.

She turned, slowly taking the time to fix an appropriate expression on her face. “Yes, Mr Coles?”

“There is a gentleman asking for you. It is most unusual and highly inconvenient but I checked with Master Walter and he said that if I didn’t tell you immediately he would not be responsible for your actions.” The elderly butler looked slightly scandalised as he added, “He said that any delay may in fact result in you killing me with your bare hands,” he winked, “I think he may be slightly drunk.”

Phryne tilted her head, a smile playing across her face. She really should have known, there would be only one reason no one told her… because they didn’t know… because there hadn’t been time… because he hadn’t wanted to wait.

“Thank you, Mr Coles. Please tell the inspector I’ll be right with him.”

**Author's Note:**

> My prompts were fire, grumpy, dialogue: “Tell the inspector I’ll be right with him.”
> 
> Thank you to whoever supplied those and also to whopooh and olderbynow for organising ❤️❤️❤️


End file.
